The Raper (Gods of Romance 01)
by TheUnfairestofthemAll
Summary: The moment my gaze landed on her, the beautiful princess, I know I'm a lost man. I shouldn't take her. And I certainly should not be hungry to spot her light with my sin. She is pure, beautiful, like a ray of sunshine after a storm. But even as a god, I cannot resist temptation. She will be mine. She will be my Queen and I'll be her Dark King. Together we will reign the Underworld.
1. Prologue

The Raper #00 - Prologue

I woke up and looked around, trying in vain to remember what had just happened to me. But when I tried to raise my hands, I realized that I had no form. I was nothing, just the decomposing particles saying goodbye to life. I thought of a body. My body. A form. One format. A man ... but nothing happened. I could not assume a structure. I was just that, whatever it was.

The panic began to grow as I tried to dig deep into the vault of my eternal memory to get some clue to my identity because I felt so out of place and out of touch with the world around me. I searched the empty corridors of my mind, just learning that it was me who had just opened the eyes just seconds ago as if I had just been born. But that was not possible. I knew it was not possible. I dug deeper, deeper and deeper, searching for any flash or spark of something to guide and lead me. But the more I searched, the less and fewer I found. I was a clean slate. I was nothing. Breathing heavily, tasting the decay of my being on my tongue, I looked around me. I was in the darkness, in a pitch-black pool with no life at all. But I was someone, so shouldn't there be life in me?

Panic was scraping my insides, making me twist and sink into myself. Surely, I was not alone here in the darkest abyss of the earth. Certainly, there were others. But it didn't matter how far I got in my mind. I shivered, knowing something was wrong, just not knowing what or why. A feeling of despair washed over me and I quieted, wondering what I should do next. I wasn't even sure about my own name. Who I was? What was I? I looked at the thing I called my body, but it was formless. There were no clues to find there. Why was I here? What was I doing here? Worse still ... who was I? With that final thought, I felt myself scream through in a way that had no mouth, body, or flesh. But I screamed, screeched and yelled as I sank into the madness of gloom.

"Spring." That dark, sinister voice was like that of the Grim Reaper. "You are the future Prince of the Dead, and I will not associate you with anyone below yourself. Below us. From now on, you are my Son. "

I heard his ghostly whisper reverberation through me, loud as thunder. Shaking violently, I went back into deeper and more profound darkness until it wasn't so loud or so painful, but then I felt empty and cold. So desperately cold.

Many have told me that when you die, you will find a black-robed skeleton holding a scythe. Some said you would go to heaven or hell. Some said you would be reincarnated. Some you would turn into a spirit, while others would sleep for eternity. Maybe one of these will happen to you. Not for me, though. I never met the pearly white gates of heaven and never went down the stairs to hell to face my punishment and hear the screams of the deceased. Or have been reborn in the world. I was never trapped on earth like a spirit and never slept for eternity. Instead, when I met the Grim Reaper whose scythe had taken my soul, I felt complete, as if I'd found a piece of the puzzle, I hadn't realized I needed. I was everything, and nothing could be better than that.

That is why, dear reader, after my eyes adjusted to the blinding light that enveloped me after my death, I took the skeletal hand extended to me gently without thinking twice. His freezing wings hugged me like a lover, my vision disappeared, and one last breath left my decayed lips, and I felt emptiness. There was no emotion, no heavy weight on my shoulders; just the sensation of floating, of being part of the world ... of being part of the stars. And then, performing a miracle, I remembered a form. I remembered how to make a body I desperately wanted to have.

I woke up again and suddenly everything was there - like rebuilding myself. Now I had meat. I had members. I had a face. And I had teeth. Slowly, I began to create a kind of home for myself in the cold, empty darkness. The first thing I did was to create life. But the life I had created was dark and deadly and menacing, predators who were ravenous beasts, with bodies full of deadly thorns and mouths full of sharp fangs. Always hungry, the beasts attacked with a vengeance and violence that made the shadows dark and red with their blood.

I sat on the throne of bones and wondered why I still felt so empty again. I was more than that. Somehow, I knew that. My purpose was not simply to wither deep into the unknown and be nothing to anyone. I was more... I was much, much more.


	2. Chapter 01 - The Abduction, Part 01

The meadow was a glorious field of grass and meadow flowers, the grass rustling softly in the breeze. There was a narrow brook running through it choked of weeds. Tall water-mint with pale lilac flowers, like dozens of small bells, growing on the edge of the brook. This was my favorite place to hunt before meeting Ēastro, a young horned rabbit some dryads were playing with.

There were several of them jumping in a flower patch, they laughed to see the bunnies playing and chewing flowers. Ēastro had broken free of their efforts, racing across the courtyard into my shadow. He must have thought I was a friendly tree. He didn't run when I went to pick him up. And I haven't killed a rabbit or other prey since. Although I admit, I still like an occasional deer on my table. I used to feel guilty about this action, but sadly, I admitted that it was foolish to avoid meat completely, as my mother said. Now I just eat much, much less. And this is because of my friendship with the rabbit with horned as twigs.

I caressed his fluffy ears as I placed him in a small flower vase. He sits on his hind legs, sniffing and cautiously tasting the nearest flower. I was sitting on the bench next to him, eating an apple from the last basket my sister Carpo had delivered. That was over a week ago. I couldn't say goodbye. Eventually, I missed her. I even asked one of the nymphs to give her a note, hoping it was delivered correctly.

"Pets only die and make you sad," Mom said a few years ago, but Ēastro was a different rabbit, he had strangely not aged all these years and the leaves on his horns as twigs remained the same color. Intense green.

"They die when you step on them," I answered her, and then Ēastro could stay.

Dragging my fingers over the petals of a rose, I allow my mind to go further. When I'm alone, I dream of the day I meet someone to share moments with. Like my mom and dad, I see how they seem to connect the way two souls should - halves of the whole. Passion and affection run through our house, but I never felt it. I have never experienced anything like that.

Every day I go out into the woods and think. My mother keeps me away from any suitor knocking on our door. My heart longs to be loved, but she pushes away any god who asks my hand. I'm pretty sure my mother would keep me locked forever as a maiden. To keep me pure until my last breath. Even loving my mother, there is a tension between us that I can't explain. Surely, she should be proud of me, wanting me to have a pleasant marriage.

There was plenty of time to think about it. I placed Ēastro under a tree, where I tied his back paw to a stake in the ground. He is, after all, a tame and loyal rabbit, but still a rabbit, so he might find problems if a dog barks away or if a shadow suddenly moves. And then he'll be lost in the woods forever if I can't find him. Eagles are also a concern, but the sky was clear.

Laurel, the leader of the dryads, looked like a pretty young woman, with delicate features apparently made of softwood and hair made of leaves and foliage. She was very happy when I asked for a scythe because I worked fast, I already practiced when I befriended Oliver, a young male dryad. Oh, I had a crush on him. He had such a pretty face. But as a child, I had learned about social castes, and my affection for Oliver meant that the dryad could not deny me. After I repeatedly explained that everything was fine and wanted an honest answer. I didn't just want the body of a slave. I wanted a kiss, and for that, I wanted to be kissed. But he said no.

The rhythmic movement of the sickle helps me thinking. My emotions were worked through my muscles and disappear from my mind instead of getting inside to rot. But I didn't sweat from exhaustion, nor from the heat of the sun, which shines on a windy day like this.

In Inguin's time, the summer, a time of year named after him for his ascendancy among gods, flowers were a new masterpiece every day, changing the unframed scenery, looking at the ever-present sky; they were the warmth of the earth thanking the warmth of the summer sun. They are the rainbow that comes from the earth and water, but it can be nothing without these golden rays. Each day of these fun months was spent barefoot dancing, windblown hair, laughing, and playing music... but for some reason summer was waning and with it the vibration of the warmer months. The joy of the flowers was fading, and with that, the overwhelming scent of the gardens gave way to the fresh scent of wet grass.

When the dryads stopped for lunch, they offered me bread and cheese, amazed at how well I had worked, but I declined the meal and continued to cut the wheat with the scythe. It was so relaxing. A goddess, even a puny one like me, never felt her muscles hurt or her skin burn. They ate their lunch happily, benefiting from their work. They fed the little Ēastro by caressing and laughing at its cuteness. A cautious look on my part was certainly justified. They're not girls, no matter how they look physically and wouldn't feel guilty for slaughtering a gentle rabbit to provide meat for cheese and bread. But they don't seem to be lighting a bonfire and know that the bunny is claimed by a goddess. So, he was safe. Thus, I kept working until a white flash appeared under my blade.

Underneath the thickly growing wheat seems to be an unusual flower. A beautiful flower. Tall, with a yellow center, angled directly at me, and somehow it missed the blade. Even though it grows higher than the wheat cut all around it. I drop the scythe down rather than making the next cut. I bend to one knee, wondering how it could grow here. How did it get enough sun among the wheat? And just a single flower? Are there others, and I had been cutting them down this whole time?

I picked up the flower and inhaled its scent, the fragrance resembling a combination of jasmine and hyacinth. Its sunny center smiled at me as a gentle breeze stirred the white petals. In awe, I turned and saw little pink butterflies lazily flying around the lush grass and plunging their little feet into the stream. The sky was deep blue, and an occasional cloud bounced off the sky like a dancing sheep.

"Child, get away from it!" Laurel shouted, running toward me with quick moves, gathering her tunic above the knees. Three more dryads followed her like calves behind their mother. They seemed too weak and beautiful to know the hard work, but Laurel's hands seizing me were nearly as strong as my mother's. The four dryads grab me around my arms and waist as solidly as though I'd fallen off a ledge, and they pull me back with no wait for protest.

"Why? What is it? Is it poisonous?" It must be. "Laurel," I say in a firmer tone again, mimicking my dad. "What's wrong?"

"It's a narcissus," she answers hastily. "It's a flower made by the gods."

We walked halfway back to the tree, where the other dryads waited with their arms crossed and their expressions worried when a young dryad pointed to the sky and shouted, "Look!"

Above the tree and beyond the field, the gentle wind blew across the sky, making the clouds darken and become soft gray pillows gathering as an impending storm was almost upon us. The danger was real. Laurel bit her lip worriedly, her eyes intent.

"Let's take her home," she says, talking to the dryads and completely ignoring me. "Her mother will give protection. Come on, let's hurry. "

"Wait! If we go home, let me take the flower first." I recognized the danger, but it was a very beautiful flower and as an excuse, I had a very bad week. The flower was the only valid thing that happened to me recently. "It will only take a second. And I need to take the track too."

"No time ... Kore, please!"

Fortunately, the dryads weren't my mother, and I was a goddess. However, fighting the four would be difficult. They were like the children who come to swarm me with tiny hugs and fists whenever I walked around the village. Small and insignificant, but capable of slowing me down in seconds.

"We need to go now!" Laurel spoke loudly in my ear as I reached the flower.

And then an unusual feeling comes over me. A conscience. There was something wrong with this place. The wheat... visually, looked good. Everything was normal. I squinted at the bright sun, which was not at all disturbed by Taranis. Still. He certainly isn't running toward me in a rush. However, he was present for some reason. So, what was it? Just the flower. Then I'm leaving. But now the flower seems to be shining. The wheat around me – the world seemed different somehow. The wind. What happened to the wind? Trees around the field trembled and swayed their branches like an audience clamoring for their attention, trying to give the answer. But the wheat grass itself?

Still. Standing frighteningly silent and motionless. Even the dryads froze, for now, hanging from my arms and waist. While the flower seems to be looking at me, summoning me to approach and pick it up.

"Come on."

I had been foolish. There was a terrible danger. When I started looking for the lone tree, the dryads seemed to be pierced by fear. Laurel just stared at the flower with wide, terrified eyes. And then I heard the sound of distant hooves. I stopped, though whatever it was horrible. I was afraid to turn around, but I did, just to dodge the approaching attack. There was nothing here. So where…?

"Come on, we have to go."

However, even I couldn't move my feet because I couldn't figure out where the horses were. They are not in the field, they are not in the sky, they are not anywhere, although they seem to be running over me, diving into this very spot. And then I had a new sensation. The ground wobbles. But not as in an earthquake, which would rattle and rumble. It wobbles as though the soil has become water. What I thought was a solid surface, the field, was actually the flimsy barrier to something deeper.

The horses were running underneath. And there was nowhere to go. The distance to the tree no longer seemed calculable and real. It was as if everything was floating and it was a miracle that I had not yet sunk into the depths. I should run. Even if the floor was no longer real, I should have fought to get as far as my legs could take me. But like Ēastro, I was very afraid. We huddled where we were. Unto, from rising fog from the ground, a shadowy figure emerged.

Four reptilian equines snorted, throwing their heads against the reins, trotting impatiently but subjugated to a master. They were solid black, like night, so their legs and bodies seemed to blend together, forming a wicked creature with many eager heads and eyes. They were tied to a golden chariot, which was elegant and shiny, and by no means foreboding. The complete opposite of creatures. It would look good in an emperor's palace, perhaps carrying him to a race.

Looking up, I meet the man's dark eyes within his chariot, yet he was dressed in the color of a raven's feathers that matched the creatures. He seemed to be one with them, though his dull skin was as pale as the white moon. And he was almost youthful, too young to be emperor, though certainly tall, majestic, and manly. A sigh fell from my lips as I saw him with slow accuracy. His hair was black as night, tousled as if he were running his fingers through it. He had distinct cheekbones and an angled jaw.

His eyebrows were impossibly straight, his eyes were black. Pure black I expected to see blue ocean irises, but instead, I was shocked, it was like looking into an endless depth of darkness, a small portal to Tartarus just waiting for me to jump in. I blinked, trying to think that this was a small side effect of my imagination, but nothing changed. I knew but couldn't help but try to find the cause. There was a lot of sadness swimming in them and suddenly, I wanted, needed to do something to help him.

Every inch of him was perfect, devilishly perfect ... but that smile. It promised wicked things. It was the smile he gave me that made my heartbeat violently against my ribs. The crooked singing, making his lips turn to something dark and sinful. I knew him. My consciousness progress, teasing me with the memory of seeing his face, but I don't know where. The chariot turned instead of approaching us directly, and the god got out of the back as soon as the equines stopped. They look like they could take off at any moment. They did not look comfortable here, dancing as if sunlight rejected them. The god, on the other hand, approaches slowly, relaxed. Almost bored. He looks at the flower as he passes it, but there is no emotion in his face.

"Kore." My name came out of his tongue like a prayer. "You have no idea how long I'm looking for you."

His voice was the sweetest melody my eyes and ears had ever witnessed. I could wrap myself in his words and sleep more deeply than a baby. I think this was an allurement, but it seemed so deep as if this was the beginning of a song that played uninterrupted, something so refreshing to my soul.


	3. Chapter 02 - The Abduction, Part 02

"The one before us is Sisyphus, son of Maris and Menvra, King of Thule, mystical island beyond the borders of the known world," Brigid spoke in a kind of whisper, low, panting and convincing, all the while focusing intensely on the being we were talking about.

The adviser always brought her wisdom to the judgments of the dead, yet she tirelessly continued to seek more knowledge. She not only embodied the knowledge, but also the experience of the highest reality, and represented the application of the intellect to daily tasks since she was born from the head of her father.

Brigid was one of the best-looking goddesses, considering how perfectly capable she was of attracting male attention, but she used her powers to do horrible things to them if they didn't leave at her first warning. She was taller than average; She had a refined face, elegant but not delicate or fragile-looking. Slim and athletic build, she moved with incredible grace. Every movement was smooth, similar to a dancer's.

Her long silky hair flowed down like the flow of a river and her eyes were mostly blue but deepened to gray in correspondence with her mood. She rarely smiled with her lips, but it was her eyes that shone, and it was that sparkle that made any living being feel the irresistible urge to smile too. Her eyes would show pure emotion even if she didn't want to. Her eyes never lied. If I could only say four words on how to understand this goddess's thoughts, those would be the four I would choose.

I nodded to her after leaning back on my throne concerning the shaking mortal. "Ixion, known to his people as Sisyphus."

"Please! It's misunderstood! "The mortal king shouted. "I'm not –"

"Quiet," said Brigid, barely raising her voice. "Do you dare to interrupt the One Who Receives Many? In your judgment?"

"There was a mistake," he said, dropping to his knees and crying. The man looked up at me and the fearsome winged creatures beside me. "Please… mercy. Please…"

"You will not speak unless allowed. There are worse ends than even Tartarus," Brigid added before addressing me. "My lord, this one has been arguing since he arrived that he's not Sisyphus. I'm sure Ogmios did his job correctly. "

"Wait, Erinyes." The winged creatures relaxed their leathery wings and recoiled. Then I turned to the mortal. "You died three days ago, didn't you? A mighty king leveled by tooth rot. "

"No, no, I wasn't, I was burned. I was burned by him! I am not him. I am not Sisyphus! "

"You're not now," I looked at the mortal, his face a mask. "You know my other names, don't you?"

"I know, your excellency. You are the Lord of Souls. Please, Merciful One, Righteous One, I beg, look at me. Look into my soul. My true soul— " he cried; his words choked with sobs. "Please. You will see it. I am not Sisyphus. He cheated on me."

The slightest hint of a smile crossed Brigid's face. She snorted. "I've heard that before, my lord. Rich mortals, fearing an eternity in Tartarus, pay quacks to purify them of their errors and even kill, thinking that sacrificed souls will take their place so they can escape their judgment." She bent to speak to the weeping man... "How much did this fake trick cost you?"

Rhamnousia laughed and crossed his wings. I was not having fun.

"Please," the mortal begged again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Do you want me to examine your soul then? A brave request." I narrowed my eyes. "I'll tell you what I see."

"You," the mortal's voice trembled, "will you give me a chance?"

"If your words are true, you will drink the waters flowing around Somnus' Cave. You will forget the suffering of your mortal life and join the souls in Asphodel Meadows. If, however, your allegations are untrue ... "

"Thanks; Thank you, sir. You're wise and fair. " His shoulders relaxed, and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

Stand with the bident firmly in my right hand, my gaze fixed on the mortal. "I see someone who challenged Caelus, Sky Father."

The dead king's eyes widened. "No…"

"A host who murdered his guests in his own home."

"No, please!"

"An uncle who raped his own niece, forcing her to murder his children, then drove his brother to madness and death."

"This is not true. That was him! It was him! "

"I see a man who, through his own arrogance, has tried to rise above the forces of nature."

"Please, no, no, no," the man cringed, sobbing.

I had seen the wicked react this way before when the breadth of their sins was revealed. And I had very little tolerance for that. My bident hit the floor, the echo sounded through the room. "Give up all hope, Sisyphus, son of Maris and Menvra. For the murder of your guests, for the raper of your niece, for offenses against the Sky Father and all the forces of nature, you do not receive the waters of the River Lethe. Me, the Receiver of Many, Afterlife Sovereign, Lord of the Dead and the Living, I condemn you to Tartarus for all eternity. But first, you'll have a refreshing bath in the waters of the Phlegethon River. "

"No, it's a mistake! Please, Merciful One, have mercy on me! Mercy! Mercy!" The man groaned in sadness, his voice echoing through the granite corridors as Rhamnousia of the golden wings, dragged him completely.

I sat down, exhausted. I rarely sent a soul to Tartarus and didn't like it when I did it. But it was a necessity. I pinched the bridge of my nose and returned to the throne.

"Are you alright, my lord?"

"I'm fine, Brigid. Do we still have more for today? "

"Not my lord. And no future judgment of other monarchs or nobles."

"That's nice."

"You know, it's the full moon," said the adviser. "Fewer die during this time. I truly believe the sick, the weak, and the elderly are filled with enough joy from festivals to stay alive a little longer than they normally would."

I nodded, looking across the dimly lit expanse of Styx outside the throne room terrace, distracted and deeply thoughtful. "Possibly."

"If you no longer need me, I will return to my son in Empyrea."

"You can do it. Good night, Brigid. "

The adviser nodded to the king and closed the throne room door behind her.

"I have to have her," I growled as I waited for Ananke to speak, wishing my legs would take me where I wanted to go. "I must have her. When the sun goes down ... "

A voice crept into my mind – a wail of awe of the ether that slowly curved into madness. "It will be too late!"

"What do you mean by that? Kybele cannot get in my way; Not now," I said.

"She is not going. Serapis, she will do worse. I get it now... I could feel her panic turning into something sharp and hopeless, but I was very focused on helping you visit Kore. Keeping you immaterial wasn't easy with you in that state…" Ananke stood up. "Do you remember Taranis?"

Realization and horror scalded me like acid and the limited color there had been drained from my face. I stood across the room. Ananke followed me through the various corridors, running to keep pace. My himation shifted, snaking around my body. The folds of the fabric hardened, becoming the golden breastplate of my armor. I didn't use it often, and never for its intended purpose. My long black cloak unwound behind me as I dashed out into the courtyard. I reached the ether as Ananke had taught me a long time ago and felt the helmet materialize in my hand.

"Serapis!" She said as I lifted my head.

Ananke was beautiful and grotesque in appearance, with the female torso and waist-down arachnid appearance. She had six monochromatic red and pupilless eyes. Her teeth were all sharp and pointed. She has black carapace covering the arms from the shoulders down and glove-like gauntlets in the hands that end in pointed ends. Her voice was soft as silk, but she only spoke words of doom.

I turned to Ananke; my face contorted with anger. "I'll throw her into the pit!"

She started but retreated, then followed me again as I continued my march. The corridor led to the massive, stable backyard of my palace, with the floor made of black granite cobblestones.

"This madness is not fixed by fate, Serapis! If Kybele gets to Kore before you, make sure the world knows her only by her thin branches and the soft shadow she gives. But these eternal changes have rules, and you can still avoid them. And you can save your lover in a more peaceful way than throws the one whose essence keeps the earth alive in the depths of Tartarus!"

I knocked the bident on the floor, the noise echoing through the yard. Cracked dark granite below, a glow of orange light radiating from the point of impact. Silently, I returned to Ananke's side as the stones fell, illuminating the yard with reflected fire. She looked at me, watching the rising smoke and listening to the approaching gallop of the abyss horses.

"Which way?" I said finally.

She looked me in the eye through the golden, black-crested helmet that allowed me to leave the Underworld wherever I chose. She raised her voice as the ground beneath us began to tremble. "Kore can only be cursed that way if she's the way Baldur was, pure."

My head bowed to recognize the weight of what she said. A tempest of realization and apprehension raced through me, the helmet barely hiding my emotions.

"That's not how ..."

With a shrill screech, four dark equines burst through the smoke gap, their manes, and hooves of black sable, their eyes gleaming with fire. They pulled a large chariot behind them. It glowed in the melting light from the abyss below, and then the floor began to close again with a roar. The carriage had not served me yet, but now it would. There was no time. As I grabbed the reins, a cloud of black smoke flowed around the carriage, the horses neighing and stamping their feet.

Ananke's voice echoed in the cacophony of the giant animals. "If you love her, Serapis, if you want to save her, you will do what must be done!"

She watched from the gate as the carriage drove away. I traveled from fiery to the living world and my Kore. Before I met her, I never thought about my actions or bothered to make a mistake that could hurt someone else. But it was time to make the fucking decision. I could not continue just watching her. I needed to find out if she was the one to break my curse. It was time to stop acting like a mortal.

Kore's scent invaded my senses. Her beauty was out of this world. A delicate flower. Beautiful, tempting. After years in the dark, surrounding me in the filth of the underworld - blood, violence, and depravity - she was a blast of fresh air. Her large green eyes met my dark ones with curiosity. I noted with approval the high cheekbones - on the right, there was a natural beauty mark that gave her face an almost exquisite look - and the classic line of her nose and chin. Her perfectly drawn eyebrows were dark as her lashes, in contrast to her reddish-blond hair that cascaded down her shoulders in rich, elegant curls. Her skin was golden, honeylike, perfect.

The rounded chin and softly upturned nose, which was almost incongruous with her cheekbones, contributed to the air of softness. But it was her extraordinary large green eyes that were her most unforgettable feature. They were the greens that bring the earth back to life after a relentless cold. The green that, even in the darkest times, can be the light that shows the way home. The beam of hope in the saddest days. And there, at that moment. I knew the real answer. I had already found my home. Then find that home is where you find it.

When I met her, my first intention was to kidnap her. I wanted nothing more than to drag her into the underworld. I'm not proud of my past actions, but I'd lie if I said I felt any guilt for them. My curse didn't drive me crazy at first, but it doesn't take long for a man to lose his mind when he can't find a sexual release. The curse didn't stop me from getting hard. I always wished that was my problem. I could have an erection, but I couldn't go until I found the one that I was destined to fall in love with. No male can remain healthy when he has had blue balls for centuries.

Every night, I was plagued by dreams of her. These dreams often led me to fly close to her home, wanting to knock on the door. Some nights I imagined breaking down the door and taking her to my castle. I wanted her with everything in me, but I never acted on my impulses. I've tried jerk off for the first time in at least four centuries. The result was exactly what I expected – an angry, unrelieved member. I wanted her more than I remembered wanting anything else.

"And who are you?" She asked with a smile so light but so completely intoxicating that I felt like a mortal.

I froze at her question, looked away from her, absorbing, memorizing, her face and neck, the collarbone lines. Not the King of the Underworld, but a human with a chance to have a marriage, perhaps. Her pink lips part. They were fleshy, sparkling with their sweet saliva. I wondered what they would be like around me, but I had to be careful and play the cards well. If I showed me too rudely, she would probably reject me as she had the previous admirer who courted her. She wanted to be in charge of choosing who to go to bed with. She had to feel it was her choice, and hers alone. Maybe she already had a boyfriend. The thought made me livid. Jealous.

However, I hadn't the time to play along. If she believed she held the reins, I'd have a chance to lure her into my bed. Patience was what I needed now, even though my cock was already throbbing with the need to stock her up and make her mine. Kore would be mine alone. She will be my queen. I will make sure that happens.


	4. Chapter 03 - The Abduction, Part 03

Why is he here? What does he want with me?

Then his gaze shifts. To Laurel, who is bravely the first of them to rise, her fists clenched.

"Go away from here!" she shouted in a tremulous voice. It doesn't seem to travel far over the air. And the god does not seem to hear her as he continued his approach. "You go back!" she shouted again, and then quickly, quietly over her shoulder, "Take her now, girls. Go!" To the god again, she says, "This is Kybele's daughter. And you have no right over this realm."

"Move, dryad," says a toneless voice. "His father has given him to me."

The girls start to take me away, whispering 'Run!' and pushing on my back, but I felt bad about leaving Laurel. A dryad had a long life and spiritual sensitivities, but they are not a divinity. Physically, they are barely stronger than a mortal. And a god as powerful as this? I knew who he was, but I wasn't brave enough to speak out loud his name. This god detests disobedience.

"It is best if I stay," I whispered back. And the dryads don't have the strength to move me. They begin to cower behind me as the god comes very near, and only Laurel stands to face his great power, her knees trembling under her dress. It wasn't right. I forced myself to stand also and not to run, like the dryads who were helping me scuttle back to the others at the lone tree.

The god regarded me with a hint of a smile. And this expression stayed as he returned his eyes to Laurel. He only sat a hand on her shoulder. She whimpers and stumbles as if she was hit. Her steps carry her to the side so that she does not stand in the way anymore. I physically force myself to breathe as the god comes closer. His crown makes him look terrible. It is black and spiked and rises up in a broken, frayed manner, like a tree that was snapped and burned. And froze in the extreme cold. It shines like glass, and it is sharp, though it is not any precious metal I have ever seen.

His clothes were strange. Foreign. He's dressed like someone from the north, his arms and legs covered, and the robe I thought he had was actually a cloak tied around his shoulders. He would be very warm indeed for a regular man here on a summer's day. Both his clothes and his features do not look like he belongs here. I have only seen a face so smooth and perfect on a woman.

When he arrived, I expected to be grabbed. That was how the mortal marriage ritual worked. The girl's family would throw a party for the bride, and the husband would carry her off over his shoulder, with the family in tow making a mock show of outrage. Of course, these are fun and games for the very real, very dark claiming of old times past. Times that a goddess still remembers, and this is the real thing.

"I-I've been married," I uttered, facing the god. We weren't the same height.

He was not angry, but he could be… if I ran.

"You will be. Our ceremony is waiting at home," said the formidable being, and he lifted his elbow from his side.

I took it, setting his hand lightly around his arm. I don't want to, but I do. I even looked helplessly back at the dryads, who have disappeared, and then at Laurel, who's finally collapsed to the ground. But none of these smaller people have the power to save me, and my mother was nowhere around. So we began to leave. The god leading me in the same bored, unhurried manner. Then I remembered.

"Wait!" Whispering, asking in a more appropriate tone, "Wait, please. I have to bring something."

The god only stopped and gave no indication of yes or no. Since it was so very important, I let go anyway and raced back to the tree. Eastro has hopped as far as he can go on his lead, and still struggles against it as I close in on him.

"Girls!" Laurel yelled from far away. "We can't let this happen! Kybele will punish us! Get the girl! Get her back to the house!"

Their slender forms appeared in the shadows of the rustling trees beyond the wheat grass. They had retreated to where the world was real.

"Hurry!" Laurel yelled, and they rush forward like warriors taking a battlefield.

I recognized that I don't have much time, so I gathered Eastro into my arms and yanked the peg free by the lead. I ran to the basket which will make do as a carrier, dumping the bread and cheese on the ground, and covering Eastro tightly with the small blanket. I began to stand when the dryads were on me, pulling at me again, urging me toward the house.

"Young nymph," said the dark god to Laurel. "Do not do this."

"I have to," she said, sobbing. "Spare us, please! Her mother will kill us if we don't give our lives to protect her."

He pressed his lips together, thinking. Then he turned, his black cloak billowing out from his feet. His horses tossed their heads and move toward me as he approaches. His hand trailed along one of the reins as he walked around to the back of the chariot where he stepped in and took control. I felt myself giving in to the overwhelming instinct telling me I should run. Absolutely, I must. Because the dark god Hades was after me.

The girls screamed and shrieked in my ear, feeling my panic, and finally, as the god snapped the reins and the horses bound forward toward me, I ran with all that I had. I left the dryads behind. I clutched the basket with Eastro to my chest, setting my eyes on the rooftops of the villa in the close distance. As a goddess, I could be there quickly, so I focused all my meager power into my legs.

Suddenly, the earth trembled. I felt the ground as it split underneath me, a great crack in the earth yawning through the center. I looked around in horror and crawled backward along with the shifting earth, then got up with one knee. A rush of dark smoke jetted from the center of the chasm, surrounding me and obscuring my vision, clouding the sky and turning the sun blood-red. Distantly, I heard horses galloping, their approach growing louder. I ran in the opposite direction, tripping once over the stone border. A shriek from a horse burst the air. I looked over my shoulder to see the silhouette of the four equines against the darkened sky. Their eyes glowed like fire and mist trailed from their nostrils.

I turned on my heels. "Inguin! Carpo! Help me!" The hooves drowned out her cries. They were gaining on me. "Mother! Mother, please! Where are you, mother?!" I yelled. The rumble of the wheels and the dark shadow they carried were almost upon me. "Baldur! Save me! Baldur!"

He leaned hard over the side of the chariot, balancing on the edge for support, and grabbed me around the waist, holding her in the crook of one arm. My feet left the ground and I screamed long and loud, kicking and flailing against the shadow. My feet met a shifting platform and a gauntleted arm pinned me fast to its owner. I looked up to his face. It was covered with a dark gold helm, crested with long black horsehair. Only his bearded chin and mouth were visible beneath it. I screamed again, beating my hands against the hard plates of his golden cuirass until we were sore and bruised.

My screams finally started to form words. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"Hold on!"

My blood ran cold and I stopped moving. That voice… I looked up into his eyes through the helm and felt myself tilt backward, the entire chariot driving downward as I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed. The earth swallowed us whole. I heard deafening cracks as chasms opened before us and shut behind us, each gallop bringing the heat of the earth closer to me. The sound of grinding rocks was replaced with a roar of the fire.

I opened my eyes. We had broken through the earth into a great glowing chamber. The air wavered and scalded. Bits of rock hung from above, red and heated, melting like beeswax, drips trailing embers downward all about them. The chariot shook, falling, plunging through the air, the whinnying horses guided by their master. I looked behind me at the gaping maw of molten earth far below and grasped at his smooth armor, scrambling to find a handhold. Fathoms below, there was nothing but molten rocks and billows of vapor rising around us. I was going to fall. I needed to get away from him but without him, I would fall. What if that was what he wanted?!

My eyes widened in terror pleading with the dark-clad being who had stolen me. "Don't let me go! Please! Don't let me go!"

I felt the heat grow more intense around her as they rode on. I smelled burning linen and looked down to see flames licking up the side of my leg. The air itself had set the skirt of my chiton on fire, and embers started flying off the asphodel crowning my head. I shrieked and pulled it from my hair, using the laurels Carpo wove for me to fruitlessly slap at the burning fabric. I felt my body wrench forward, the flimsy cloth tearing away from me, splitting along my back with a loud rip, my thin girdle jarring my waist when it snapped in half.

The flaming garments and the garland from my hair burned away in his uplifted hand, their smoldering remnants turning to ash as they scattered behind the chariot. Left with little choice, I grabbed onto the straps of his cuirass just under his shoulders and looked up to see him pull off his helm and smooth back his hair. Wide-eyed shock replaced my screams. It couldn't be… it couldn't be… I shuddered and froze as he looked down at me.

"Kore!" he yelled at me over the sound of the horses and the roar of twisting molten earth below. "Kore, I need you to trust me!"

I scrambled and grasped at his neck, barely registering the fact that I was now naked. My bare feet burned, and I jumped, inching them up to his greaves, then his legs, wrapping myself around him to escape the heat. The blistering vapors seared over my back until I felt his great black cloak wrapped around me, pressing me against him, protecting me. I felt him pull the reins hard with one hand and bring my body further up along his with the other, his arm encircling me.

I locked my legs around his waist, face to face with him, his skin glowing in the red heat. Our eyes met. He looked tenderly at me for a brief moment, almost disbelieving that I was actually in his arms, then turned away from me to concentrate and steer our onward. I pleaded with him in sounds that weren't quite words to turn back, to not burn both of us alive.

The molten earth rushed toward us ever faster. I closed my eyes against the heat and buried my face into his neck with a sob, surrendering myself to my fate, waiting to feel the deep fires of the earth consume and devour us. Instead, the roaring heat stopped, and all grew quiet and cold around us. For a moment I doubted how deathless I really was.

My eyes were awash in blackness and void. My ears still rang from our passage through earth and fire. The horses pressed onward, quietly shaking the cart. Their cries grew silent, the only sound an occasional snort or nicker. Lifting my hand up in front of my face, I realized with a gasp that I couldn't even see its outline against the darkness. I ran my hand through the messy tangle of my hair, checking to see if it were still there and unburnt. My face was still smooth, unharmed. I cautiously turned my palm until it met the side of his face. He was still there, unburnt as I was. I traced the outline of an ear and high cheekbones, making sure that he was whole and unharmed.

As I hand passed over his nose and in front of his lips, he quickly kissed my palm. I drew my hand back, startled and relieved, and listened to the sound of our breathing, the only noise now as the horses charged silently forward into the abyss. I felt the heat of his face, the shortening of his breath against my cheek. I angled my head as he turned toward me and captured my lips.

His arm closed tighter around me and I melted into his embrace with a tiny moan, feeling his mouth hot against mine, sighing against my lips in relief. I kissed him back, shy at first, then eagerly when he responded to me. My fingers bunched in the dark strands of hair cascading across his cloak. His lips possessed mine gently, nipping and pulling, his kiss filled with relief, need and an anxious hesitancy that flowed into me from every place my skin came into contact with his.

I was suddenly very aware of my naked body wrapped around him. My hands felt the pulse and cord of tendons in his neck and shoulder. My ankle brushed against his thigh. His free hand pressed into my back and I leaned onto his breastplate, shaking nervously. He broke away from me to kiss my cheek and neck, and then lightly pulled on my earlobe with his lips.

"Don't be afraid, sunshine," he said quietly, sending a shiver through me. "We're only passing through Erebus. The light will return."

"My dress—"

"—and your crown. I apologize. Nothing mortal from your world can pass through the fire on the way to the Other Side."

"Wh-why… Baldur… Why did you take me like this?"

"You were in grave danger," he said. "I had no other choice."

He tightened the reins and leaned toward me, feeling my legs locked around his waist. I pressed against the front of him and need starting to consume him. I was still drenched from our time together in his sacred cypress grove. He kissed me, locking my arms and legs tightly, I copied him, kissing his cheek and earlobes. I pulled on one of them with my lips, tasting the edge with her tongue. I listened to him take a long, ragged breath as he arched toward me, he hissed exhaling and grazing the shell of my ear and sending heat through me. I shivered, repeating his words in her head. Erebus… the Other Side…

"Who are you?" she whispered low into his ear.

"I am him," he whispered back.

Ice ran down my spine. Baldur… Baldur… Although Baldur was dead, I've even placed on his funeral pyre with him. But presently he was Serapis Chthonios Necrodegmon. The Unseen One. The Receiver of Many. Ruler of the Other Side and Lord of the Dead…

He crushed his lips against mine before I could respond. I surrendered, opening to him and racing my tongue across his teeth, trembling. He moaned and smoothed his hand down my back to calm me. He was… he is… my mind couldn't, wouldn't process it.


End file.
